right! so this started as a one shot, then progressed into a two shot after I was asked how it had progressed (Ardi-swan thank you for the push ^.^) then I was asked on AOO to write more of it. being the people pleaser I am... I sat and wrote this. (seriously, I'm such a push over for people who like my work . ) anyway. chapter 3 of god knows how many. because I can handle writing four stories at once, right... right?!

enjoy!

"no listen Al,- I'm not trying to get a fuck. - oh for… ya know what? never mind, I'll call Gil."

he hung up the phone and stared at it, counting. he barely reached 20 mississippi before it rang again. called ID: Alfred

"I thought you told me to fuck off? - well, I'll talk if you're gonna listen this time. - If I did apologize would you believe me? - didn't think so."

Matthew laid back on the guest bed and sighed "look Al… I just need a back up plan, that's all. - I left Ivan, moving out at the end of the month - yeah yeah shut up… look I'm gonna look for a place, but if I can't find one in time can I crash at your place for a bit? - yeah Al, I'm sure I'll spend plenty of time in your bed making it up to you. - okay thanks Al, I'll talk to you later okay? bye"

Matthew hung up the phone and sighed. He should have stuck with Gil… except Gilbert was pissed at him currently. maybe sleeping with his brother was a bad decision after all.

he went to rub his temples and cringed at the movement. the blonde reached towards the side table and took out the advil he knew would be there. this room was frequently used for drunk house guests. he popped two in his mouth cringing as he dry swallowed them.

Alfred on the other hand, wasn't going anywhere. sure he said he was done, again and again and again. But no, he had known Al since elementary school. they had grown up like brothers, their dads even dated for a few years, although that ended horribly... probably partly because its a bit of a shock to come home and find your sons who are practically step brothers making out on the couch. Matthew cringed at the memory. maybe he had never been a very good person...

He sighed and looked around the room. his eyes set on the door and a small smile crept onto his face as the memory of christening this room came unbidden. the smile was quickly replaced with a grimace as he remembered other activities in this room… god Al was right, he was an asshole.

but he still clung to his defense, as it was all he really had to stop him from feeling like shit, he worked at trying to fix it. he read books, talked to therapists, tried to beg Ivan into couples therapy… that hadn't gone well. Ivan went once and told the therapist everything was fine and refused to go again. he cried, yelled, fought and begged for answers. yes, he had gone above and beyond to try and fix it… but it seemed the more he tried, the more the large Russian shut him out.

he laid back, staring at the ceiling, unruined fingers in his hair, the other hand resting on his uneasy stomach. So why did his heart have to hurt so much?

Ivan moved from the bathroom numbly to the bedroom. he paused in the door and looked over the room. everything about it stung. the towel covering a mess, the broken glass and blood, their bed… Ivan's fist met the wall and he choked back a sob.

This was his fault, he could have done more, he should have done more. but… that's what had pushed Katyusha away. holding on to tight, being too protective. she left with her husband, crying and saying she just couldn't be around him anymore, it was too much. but what had being cold gotten him? He had pushed Natasha away, and now Matthew was leaving… no matter what he did, everyone left.

Ivan walked carefully around the broken glass, he picked up the scratched picture from amongst the shards and looked at it. his fingers traced the pair, how could they have looked so happy? anger at himself brewed. He turned from from the room, shoving the picture in his pocket. he would sleep on the couch… he wouldn't be able to sleep in a room that brought up so much.

he trudged down the stairs and into the living room. it was only 8pm… he sighed and shed his clothing down to his undershirt and boxers, his suit folded neatly on the chair. he laid on the couch and grabbed his phone, he would just mindlessly play games until he passed out.

Matthew's eyes fluttered open and he groaned sitting up. it was dark, he must have fallen asleep. he yawned and looked at the clock. 11:35pm. fantastic.

He wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep, but his mouth was dry and his empty stomach growled angrily. at least going to the kitchen now would mean avoiding an uncomfortable encounter…

he yawned as he shifted out of the bed, cringing as his feet hit the cold floor. Matthew dragged himself down the hall and stairs, wandering into the kitchen. he grabbed the fridge door and yanked it open without thinking, and cursed. he had forgotten his hand. tears welled in his eyes as he felt cuts open wide, blood soaking through bandages. a whimper left his lips

"Matvey?" came a soft voice from the living room. shit, why was he down here?

"I'm fine, go to bed Ivan" he tried pathetically.

The russian was already in the kitchen, his eyes trained on Matthews hands. the light of the fridge illuminated the issue. "you need stitches" he said in the same cautious quiet tone.

"y-yeah.. I think you're right.. I'm just gonna go take myself down to the hospital I guess" he answered quickly moving towards the door where his keys hung on their hook. he felt a hand grab his arm and froze.

Ivan pulled it back quickly he cleared his throat and said simply "нет, you can't drive like this. I drive you" he stepped back to the living room dragging clothing on quickly then took the keys off the hook.

Matthew just stood… he didn't even know how to argue his point. he could say no and just call Alfred, but that would be a slap in the face… or he could call a cab, but that looked petty... his face was red, this was beyond awkward. there was no way out of it, so he simply followed Ivan out of the house and towards the car, his hand throbbing.

The hospital had been awkward and silent. Ivan had sat alone in the waiting room so he could drive Matthew back home after his hands were sewn back together. It hadn't taken too long thankfully. The pair had left the hospital with barely a word.

It took everything in Ivan not to reach out and touch the small man. he settled for a question when they were in the car "are they okay?" he muttered as he pulled out onto the dark deserted road.

"yeah, I'll be fine. Sorry you had to drive after... yeah" the blonde cut off and Ivan grimaced.

"Matvey... " he didn't know what to say... please don't leave? I'm sorry? I'll go to that therapist again? would he want to hear any of it? "I... It's okay..." he let out pathetically

they didn't speak again until they pulled up in front of their house. Ivan had spent the ride gathering courage, reminding himself there was nothing to lose anymore. "Matvey..." he started again, he worked to control his voice "is there any hope?" he swallowed dryly looking out the windshield, pain all over his face. silence followed until he looked at the blonde next to him. his eyes held guilt and sadness

"Ivan... I'm not just doing this for me... you" he choked and cleared his throat continuing thickly " you deserve someone who's going to make you happy. I'm not a good person for you either."

Ivan frowned "what are you talking about? you are good! I don't..." he stopped and looked down "I don't want someone else..."

the passenger door swung open. "please... don't make this harder than it has to be Ivan... " whispered Matthew as he exited the car walking up to the house.